


Hot to the Touch

by FluffyBonsai



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, zosan sanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyBonsai/pseuds/FluffyBonsai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro and Sanji have both come down with some kind of sickness. While the rest of the crew are enjoying their time on an island, the swordsman and the cook are left alone to rest. Despite the constant rivalry and bickering between the two crewmates, all it takes is a little alone time for Zoro and Sanji to realize there's a connection between them that they'd never thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro is sick with something bad, and it seems like Sanji is the only one who can tell! And come to think of it, maybe Sanji's not feeling too great either. Hm, too bad neither of them will be able to play with the rest of the crew. I guess Zoro and Sanji will have to stay alone...

            Seeing the green-haired swordsman sick was enough to make Sanji’s stomach churn. Zoro barely had the energy to respond to the cook’s teasing, and the way his head drooped into his hands made him look so pathetic.

            “You’d better fix yourself up. Dinner’ll be ready in a couple minutes,” Sanji grumbled.

Zoro raised his head and coughed a little. “I don’t… think I’m coming to dinner tonight,” he said quietly.

“Fine, your loss. More for everyone else.” Sanji paused for a moment in front of the slouching swordsman, just in case he decided to follow Sanji into the dining room after all. But Zoro only leaned back against the wall and let out a deep breath.

“You gonna’ stand there all day, cook?”

“No. I just. Don’t understand how anyone could pass up a chance to eat my delicious food.” Sanji chuckled at himself, his shoes clicking softly as he made his way to the kitchen.

The night before, Zoro had gone to bed hours before anyone else. He had hardly made it through dinner, what with his violent coughing and groaning about his headache. _Great. He’s getting sick,_ Sanji had thought. _All we need is a virus floating around this boat._ One sick person usually meant the whole crew was bound to fall ill sooner or later.

Usually he didn’t care about Zoro. But that night, Sanji felt different. The shitty marimo was always sulking and napping against the walls of the Sunny with his arms crossed over his chest. But no matter what, his dark green eyes were always smiling and alert, accepting of Sanji’s joking remarks. That night, Zoro lacked his playfulness. It bothered Sanji.

For the duration of the next day, Zoro remained dull and tired. Even more so than usual. And when he groaned that he couldn’t come to dinner, Sanji knew something was definitely wrong. The swordsman refusing food might as well have been the end of the world.

Having returned to the kitchen, Sanji finished preparing dinner silently. He brought the serving bowl out, heaping with spaghetti and massive meatballs (Sanji knew better than to go lightly on the meat, for Luffy’s sake). He arranged everything nicely on the dining table, calling sweetly for Nami and Robin. Eventually the smell of food brought Luffy hurdling to the table, with Usopp and Chopper in tow. Franky pounded in heavily. Brook leapt in as well, his bones clattering excitedly.

“Yohoho! Smells fantastic, Sanji!”

“ _Should_ be pretty fantastic,” the cook said with a smile.

The crew ate in their usual animated matter. Luffy devoured a serving fit for an entire family, still claiming to be famished afterward. The ladies received the typical special treatment from Sanji, who was always prepared to jump to his feet to refill their drinks. Chopper and Usopp laughed. Brook hummed a tune and Franky talked about his _super_ day. It would have been a normal dinner if not for the absence of Zoro.

“Hey, where’s Zoro?” Luffy asked between bites. It was about time someone noticed.

“Is Swordsman-san not joining us for dinner?” Robin questioned.

Sanji wiped his hands and adjusted his tie. “He’s, ah… Not feeling up to eating right now.” He didn’t want to sound concerned for the damn marimo-head. Besides, everyone was so used to Zoro’s mellow nature that the thought of him sleeping through dinner wasn’t overly alarming.

Midway through the meal, after repeatedly glancing at Zoro’s empty seat, Sanji swallowed a mouthful of pasta and stood. “I—I’ll be right back.” He left the dining room on the tapping heels of his oxfords, and stepped onto the deck.

Zoro hadn’t moved from where he’d been earlier, but his sickly appearance took Sanji by surprise. He was extremely pale, which was unsettling, since the man’s skin was usually bright and slightly suntanned. His forehead was resting on his hands, and his elbows on his knees; when Sanji looked closer, he could tell that the green-haired man was trembling a bit.

“Zoro!” he gasped, sparing the poor guy an insolent nickname. When Zoro looked up, his eyes were foggy and dark.

“What? Leave me alone!” His voice cracked.

“There’s something really wrong with you. I need to get Chopper.”

“No! I’m fine!” Zoro tried to stand, but faltered. His face went blank as though he were barely coherent. Zoro’s refusal made all the more reason for Sanji to be concerned.

“You stay right there. I’m getting Chopper and you can’t do anything about it.”

Sanji hurried back to the dining room. The relaxed chitchat and laughter of the crew died as soon as they saw the look on Sanji’s face.

“Chopper. I need Chopper now.”

The little reindeer’s ears twitched. “What? What’s the matter Sanji? Are you alright?”

“It’s Zoro. He’s really sick.” _Am I seriously the only one?_ Sanji thought. _The only one who can tell the fucking difference between Zoro’s usual demeanor and him when he’s sick?_

Chopper followed quickly behind Sanji. It was hard to tell whether the little doctor was worried or if he was thrilled to have a patient to tend to. When he caught sight of Zoro, Chopper transformed to Heavy Point and patted the man gently on the shoulders.

“Zoro? How did this happen? Did you suddenly feel this coming on?”

“I think he’s been like this since last night,” Sanji explained, though it pained him to admit his concern for the marimo. “And he hasn’t looked too great all day. But I came out here to check on him… er, see if he was still out here, and he looked awful.”

With his larger form in use, Chopper picked Zoro up carefully and hung him over his shoulder. “I’ll take him to my quarters and see what I can do.” Sanji watched his two crewmates disappear from the deck. Luffy and the others had emerged from the dining room and were interrogating Sanji like crazy.

“Zoro’s fine,” Sanji sighed. “Probably just has a cold or something.” He knew it was more than that. Zoro could ignore the symptoms of a cold. This was something worse.

 

As the sun began to set, Sanji made his way to the guy’s quarters and settled into his hammock bunk. He pulled out his favorite cookbook and began to read the recipes he’d studied for years, feeling the worn pages between his fingertips. Roast recipes, pie recipes, soup recipes—things he’d made hundreds of times. Foods he’d prepared for his crew and helped to consume, while watching the smiles on their faces grow wider with the taste. Being a cook, Sanji was certain, was the best job in the world, even though at times he felt undervalued, and especially under-thanked by certain crewmembers.

Carried away by his thoughts, Sanji suddenly lost interest in reading. Speaking of certain crewmembers, there was Zoro to worry about. Sanji had never seen him so sick before. Urgh. Why was he worried about Zoro? Goddamn Marimo.

That was when Sanji felt something odd. A pang in his stomach. A pang of guilt.

Sanji wasn’t one to carry a lot of guilt. In fact, most of the remarks that came out of his mouth were rude, and he didn’t care one bit.

There it was again. Dammit.

Sanji couldn’t ignore it. He felt bad for some stupid reason, and his thoughts kept going back to Zoro. He was so mean to the swordsman! But he didn’t care, right? Nah. Who cares about that guy? He’s annoying beyond words. Always yawning and downing mugs of beer, never thanking Sanji for his cooking, never complimenting the carefully-crafted meals he shoved into his face, never _ever_ even noticing the pretty sprigs of oregano garnishing his plate. Gah! What a shit.

Sanji dropped his book to the ground and rolled over in his hammock. He was too hot to need a blanket. And dammit, he wasn’t even tired. And what if Zoro just died in the middle of the night?

Shut up, Sanji. Why the hell would Zoro die? He _probably_ didn’t have a deadly disease or anything. It was probably a common flu.

Sanji’s throat tickled as he let out a cough. A bad one. He couldn’t quite satisfy the scratchiness. Was he getting sick too? No, he couldn’t be. It was just from smoking. Damn his stupid bad habits. He rolled to his other side and counted the rows of wood panels on the wall in boredom. None of the other guys had come to bed yet, but he liked it that way, silent and lonely. There was no way of getting to sleep once Usopp and Luffy came to bed, with their awful snoring, so Sanji was always sure to be dozing before then.

Luckily, sleep washed over him at last.

 

Sanji woke to an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t an emotional pain that weighed him down, but a physical ache. His head and throat both throbbed as well. _Well shit,_ he thought. _Now I’m sick too?_ His chest heaved in a shallow breath. He really felt like absolute shit.

The thin blond man sat up, and he was instantly exhausted. And when Luffy’s voice began to echo through the interior of the Sunny, Sanji felt ten times more exasperated.

“HEY!” the young man shouted. “HURRY AND GET UP! WE’RE DOCKING HERE!”

Sanji rolled his legs over the side of the hammock and anchored his feet to the ground. “Luffy, where the hell are we?” he groaned. The captain didn’t respond, as he could be heard talking excitedly to his other crewmates on the deck. Sanji sighed and looked around the guys’ quarters through half-closed eyes, only to realize he was the last one to get up. He _really_ must have been sick to have slept longer than Luffy and Usopp and Zoro.

_Oh yeah,_ Sanji thought. _Wonder how that marimo’s doing._

Sanji slowly rose to a standing position and walked onto the deck. To his surprise, the Thousand Sunny was pulling to the shore of an island and everyone was getting ready to hop off. Seriously, Sanji? How could you have slept through this? Though he wasn’t feeling the least bit energetic, Sanji slowly walked over to Luffy to ask him what the heck was going on.

“Luffy. Where are we?” Sanji persisted.

“I dunno! Some island.” The young captain gave Sanji a warm smile. “Hurry up and get some clothes on so you can join us!”

Sanji looked down at himself and remembered he was wearing boxers and no shirt. Whoops. Never mind the fact that he was nearly naked; the real problem was that Sanji was _freezing._ Something was definitely off.

Wait, why was Chopper there too? Shouldn’t he have been staying with Zoro?

Couldn’t believe he was asking this. “Hey, where’s Zoro?”  
            “Remember, he’s sick!” Luffy said. “He can’t come with us.”  
            Chopper placed his little hoofed hands on his hips. “Zoro’s going to stay in the sick bay. I hate to leave him here alone, but…” The reindeer looked wistfully from the boat at the beautiful island in front of them. There were pretty hills and grass and no people or houses to be seen. Why they were stopping there was beyond Sanji’s comprehension, but the crew _had_ been cooped up on board for quite a while.

“I think he’ll be just fine alone,” Sanji said with a cough. He continued to clear his throat for a moment as Chopper leaned to get a good look at his face. The doctor’s brow furrowed.

“Sanji, you’re not feeling good either, are you?”

Sanji hid his face in his hair and pulled out a cigarette, lighting up quickly. “I’m fine.” He took a drag and coughed again. Chopper, having very little respect for peoples’ personal space, climbed onto Sanji and sat on his shoulder to feel the cook’s forehead.

“What the hell—” Sanji swatted at Chopper, who refused to move.

The doctor scowled. “Sanji. You’re burning up! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What? I’m fine! It just got really hot in our room last night.”

“No, you’re sick. And really pale.”

“I’m always pale. Haven’t you noticed?” Sanji retorted, though his attempt to defend himself was quickly contradicted by another forceful cough. He suddenly felt weak and his knees gave out, catching himself on the ground with his hands. His cigarette fell out of his mouth; Chopper jumped off Sanji’s shoulder and stomped it out.

“You need to be careful! You’re obviously unhealthy. You need to rest,” Chopper ordered. “I’ll take you back to my infirmary and…”

“I’m fine, please,” Sanji grumbled, hands and knees on the ground. His head started to feel light and fuzzy. No, he wasn’t fine. He knew that he was absolutely not okay. But the last thing he wanted was to be fussed over by Chopper and given special attention.

Luffy was urging everyone off the ship and Chopper began to look anxious. “Ergh,” he sighed. “Sanji, go back and lie down. We’re going to go play on the island.”

Sanji wanted to prove that he was in good enough shape to join them on the island, but seriously? Did he _really_ want to go anyway? He could barely even stand. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Chopper said with a smug grin. “I want you to rest. And make sure Zoro rests too. We don’t need our whole crew to end up sick.” In seconds, Chopper’s serious ‘doctor face’ melted into a childish grin. He bounded toward Luffy and Usopp, who immediately joined in some game of tag. Sanji felt a sick feeling wash over him and he had to clutch his head on his way back to the sleeping quarters. Shit, why did this have to happen? Sanji _hated_ being sick. Being sick meant he shouldn’t cook for anyone. Unless virus-sandwiches were on the menu.

The blond had barely made it to his hammock before he collapsed into uncomfortable sleep. He could feel himself sweating with heat and shuddering with cold at the same time as his mind went out like a light bulb.

 

Zoro woke up in the doctor’s quarters. He felt so incredibly shitty. Everything from his killer headache to his upset stomach. And for some reason, Chopper wasn’t there. In fact, as he strained to listen to his surroundings, he couldn’t make out any of the usual loud voices and laughter of his nakama. Was everyone gone? He wanted so badly to get up and look for his crewmates, but he was so damn weak and exhausted.

Come to think of it, Chopper had said something earlier about docking and playing on an island. Something about how Zoro should stay behind and rest. As if that were a shame. Zoro couldn’t imagine doing anything besides sleeping. He couldn’t even think about food without feeling faint. Even _beer_ sounded unappealing.

The green-haired man, lying shirtless on the bed, swiftly transitioned from hot to cold. He pulled up the blanket and buried his nose into the fleece. Maybe he was a little hungry after all. In fact, he was almost craving some of that shit-cook’s chicken noodle soup. Yeah, that really _did_ sound good. Almost so good that he might give Sanji a big hug if he were to walk in with a nice steaming bowl. And that was saying a lot, considering all Zoro’d ever wanted to do to that cook was punch him in his stupid-fuck face.

Gawd, Zoro was getting really bored. If only he’d felt better; the best time to train was when everyone else was gone.

Slowly, the swordsman peeled back the covers, beginning to sweat again, and walked onto the deck. The sun was painfully bright and way too warm on his skin. He rubbed his one good eye and sat down beneath the shade of the mast. If he didn’t feel like downright crap, it would have been very relaxing. The waves lapped at the Sunny and water trickled down the ship’s woodwork. Faraway gulls cawed and the trees on the island rustled a bit. He looked at the land mass in front of the boat, wishing he had the energy to join his crewmates up there. But as long as he could just relax and sleep all alone, everything was—

            _Cough!_

            Where the hell did that come from.

            Goddammit. There was someone else on the boat. Whoever it was let out another cough. It was coming from the guy’s sleeping quarters. But it was hard to tell who exactly it was coming from.

            Naturally, Zoro had to find out who it was. He got to his feet, legs jittery and tired, and followed the sound. He entered the guys’ room to see a blond head poking up over a blanket in one of the hammocks.

            Of course. It had to be Sanji. How lucky was Zoro to be left alone with the spiral-browed cook? Great. Just great. Life was peachy.

            Zoro found himself walking closer to Sanji’s hammock. He didn’t exactly know why. It was just… He wanted to see if Sanji was sleeping. Was he sick too? As Zoro came nearer, he noticed that Sanji was really pale, almost grayish looking. As much as the guy got on his nerves, it was almost sad to see him like that. Sanji was always so full of life—while swooning ladies or tossing ingredients into a mixing bowl—and seeing him dull and, ick, slightly gray, was disheartening.

            But strangely peaceful.

            Dude. Why would you even think something like that…? He was crazy. But Zoro didn’t take his eyes off Sanji. It was almost… too precious to see the flirtatious Casanova in such a pitiful state. His golden hair was limp. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Well. Not that Zoro probably looked any better. The guy felt like he’d been socked in the head and the stomach, and drugged to feel drowsy as hell. But for some reason he felt empowered to be standing over his rival like that, poised to laugh at the sickly chef. He couldn’t laugh though. His abdomen was sore from heaving his stomach out during the night. Now _that_ was an ab workout like you couldn’t believe.

            To Zoro’s surprise, Sanji stirred a bit in his hammock. Zoro nearly jumped backward, suddenly realizing how awkwardly close he was to the cook. He didn’t have the time to lurch his tired body away before Sanji’s blue eyes opened. And they fell upon Zoro immediately.

            “You bastard,” Sanji growled, his voice cracking. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

            “I didn’t know you were here,” Zoro said quickly. “I heard you coughing in your sleep and it freaked me out. I thought I was alone.”

            “No. I’m here.” He coughed. “You still sick as a dog?”

            “Pretty much.” Zoro stepped into his own bunk and stretched out, wishing he had his coat now. Sanji noticed the swordsman shivering, so he tossed him one of his blankets. He was now pretty toasty himself so he moved to the floor and sat with his back against the wall.

            “Thanks.”

            “No problem.”

            They sat there for a moment, with only the sound of the boat creaking on the waves to suppress their silence.

            Zoro still couldn’t decide whether he wanted to eat or not, but he needed to find something to say. “Oi. I’m hungry. You feel good enough to cook something?”

            Sanji snorted contemptuously. “ _Yeah,_ right. And I’m sure _you_ feel good enough to slash a bastard to pieces in a swordfight.”

            “If that bastard happened to be a shitty blond chef _,_ I bet I would.”

            Sanji laughed. Damn that Zoro for always having a comeback. He was pretty dumb, but clever.

            Zoro shifted uncomfortably. His eyes met Sanji’s. “Where’s the rest of the crew? They on the island?”

            “I guess so. Who the hell knows? I’m actually kinda glad to have some alone time.” Sanji, realizing what he said, shook his head. “Oh shit, that’s not what I meant. Not with you. Just alone time… away from… fuck. Never mind. You know what I meant.”

            “Y—Yeah.”

            Well. Sanji _was_ alone with the marimo, so. Might as well try to converse with the guy.

            But nothing else.

            ‘Cause shit, Zoro was so god-awfully obnoxious. Passively-aggressive. Urgh, that guy.

            “You look pretty terrible,” Zoro said softly. “Do you need me to get you something?”

            “Get me… something?” Sanji blinked a couple times, and Zoro could almost see a slight blush bloom across the cook’s cheeks. Probably because of his fever. Yeah, that’s definitely why. Damn. It was strangely adorable. Zoro could feel his own cheeks flare a bit too.

            Because of his fever. That’s why.

            “Yeeah… You know. Need a glass of water? Tissues?”

            “Why are you being nice to me?” Sanji raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Ha, be my guest. I could use a glass of water.”

            Why was Zoro doing this? He was definitely out of his mind. Nevertheless, he went to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water, grabbing a banana for himself, and went back to the guys’ room.

            “Thanks,” Sanji said quietly as Zoro handed him the glass. Zoro nodded and sat down on the ground near Sanji, peeling his banana and taking careful bites. Hopefully his stomach could hold it down.

            Sanji set his water down and glanced at Zoro. Oh shit. The way that guy was eating his banana... Seductive in almost a humorous way. Not that Sanji was at all seduced by the swordsman, but for some reason, it was entertaining to be able to watch the guy up close. He’d never had the chance to really look at Zoro, to study the curves of his face or mentally inquire about his curious features.

            Why was his hair green? And how was it so soft-looking? If anyone was to give zero shits about their appearance, it was Zoro, but how could Sanji deny it? Zoro always looked charming in a disheveled sort of way.

            And what the hell had happened to his left eye? That thin scar running from above his brow down to his cheek… Wouldn’t it be awfully shitty to be a half-blind swordsman? Somehow it was damned cute, though. Sorta like he was always making a winky face.

            And his mouth. God, his mouth. Stop eating like that… Dammit…

            “The hell are you staring at?” Zoro’s voice made Sanji flinch.

            “Wh-what?” Sanji stammered. “It’s just that… you look so fucking stupid right now. When was the last time you brushed your hair, idiot marimo?”

            “I _never_ brush my hair. I don’t need to.”

            “Well it looks stupid.”

            Zoro half-smiled at him. “Like I care, dumbass.”

            Sanji too often acted on impulse. He was always doing dumb things without thinking, so he had no excuse for his actions when his hand just reached out and patted down Zoro’s hair.

            His hand. On Zoro’s hair.

            Zoro just looked at him, almost like he was confused. Had the cook really touched his hair? “Hey. You messed it up.” Zoro ruffled his messy green locks and, acquiring some kind of playful look, he leaned forward and swooped Sanji’s bangs, catching a glimpse of the right side of his face.

            “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” Sanji burst out, coughing and smoothing his hair down.

            Zoro smiled a bit to himself. Anything he could do to get on that cook’s nerves. And now he knew something else that bothered him: screwing with his precious side-swept hair.

            “Don’t think about touching my hair again,” Sanji mumbled.

            “You’re not exactly invited to touch mine either.”

            They looked at each other for a moment, which was an unusual occurrence, considering Zoro rarely held eye contact with anyone, especially Sanji. Then Sanji broke into laughter, his throat raw from incessant coughing. His eyes were locked on Zoro’s face. “You know what, Marimo? You’re a pretty funny guy. You’re—” He was cut off when he saw the look on Zoro’s face. He knew the guy was feeling queasy when his skin began to match the color of his hair.

            “Whoa, Zoro. Are you…”

            “Shit.”

            The green-haired, green-faced man stood and walked stiffly toward the door. Despite how weak he felt, his pace quickened as he tried to make it to the bathroom. But his efforts were futile; the marimo, running across the deck, lunged for the side of the Sunny and hung over the railing.

            Sanji’s laughter augmented as he witnessed Zoro’s panic. Ah, he shouldn’t be laughing. That was mean. But still too damned funny.

            The blond walked over to his sick nakama, finally feeling some pity for the guy. Though he didn’t really want to come off as softhearted, Sanji, nonetheless, placed a hand gently on Zoro’s back. “Hang in there, big guy,” he said, rather condescendingly.

            “Shut up,” Zoro snapped, though his voice was still soft. Sanji was actually surprised that the swordsman hadn’t resisted his touch. So the cook didn’t take his hand away.

            “It’s okay. I know what it feels like. Sucks to be sick.”

            Zoro, face pale, looked up weary-eyed at Sanji. And crazily enough, he smiled. Just a little bit. Cutest smile Sanji had ever seen.

            Yep, Zoro was cute.

            Cute, cute, cute.

            Even when he was sick over the edge of the boat, Marimo was _fucking_ cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!~ I hope you enjoy Hot to the Touch! I'll be updating spontaneously throughout the next few weeks, depending on how often I can find time to sit down and write.


	2. Don't Say Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji and Zoro decide it's time to make lunch. Or is that really what they have in mind...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!~ I hope you enjoyed chapter one: here is chapter two! I'm not sure how long the story will go on, but in the meantime, please enjoy a new chapter :)

            Zoro began to feel better after having emptied out his sick stomach. Sanji was thankful for not having any urge to vomit; he hoped dearly that he wouldn’t have to anytime soon.

            Now, everything should have been perfectly normal. But this weird feeling was growing within Sanji that made him all warm inside, yet anxious at the same time. He wanted so badly to just be with Zoro, and to touch his back when he coughed and feel his hands as he passed him tissues.

            The two men sat on the deck with their backs pressed against the wall. Sanji was certain that he’d never been so close to the marimo, but it was so nice to feel the warmth of his arm pressed against Zoro’s.

            “How’re you feeling now?” Sanji asked.

Zoro turned his face. He was still so pale and gloomy, but his voice was a bit more relaxed. “Better.” He swallowed down his dry throat, and for a moment he thought he felt nervous. His eye drifted over to Sanji and his insides flip-flopped a little. It was embarrassing for himself to realize that he felt that way when he looked at the cook. It was so weird. Sanji was pretty attractive. Not only was everything from his hairstyle to his face intriguing, but his dickish-douchebag personality was alluring in the oddest way. He wanted Sanji to tease him and poke his face, and kick him in the knee when he said something insulting.

But Zoro also wanted to see Sanji’s sweet, tender side. The cook had already revealed so much of his gentle demeanor that he was hardly recognizable. His hand on Zoro’s back. The fabric of his jacket touching Zoro’s skin. The glint of sunshine on his hair. Sexy.

“Do you want something to eat?” Sanji asked. He puffed on a cigarette and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“I could go for some food.”

“Good.” Sanji stood, using the wall for support, as he still felt as though his muscles were halfway to being atrophic. “You’re gonna help me make it.”

Zoro’s face contorted into a confused frown. “What?”

With a devious smirk, Sanji grabbed Zoro’s hand—yes, grabbed his fucking hand—and pulled him to his feet. “Come on.”

Zoro pleaded mentally, _Don’t let go. Don’t let go._ Sanji’s hand was so warm against Zoro’s clammy skin. And it was paralyzing, like an electrical shock. It was amazing. And thank the fucking stars, he didn’t let go.

Sanji led the swordsman to the kitchen and finally dropped his hand—dammit—so he could start the preparation. “I want you to make your own food so I don’t contaminate yours. Even though we’re both sick, who knows what would happen if we shared any more of our shitty germs.” He handed Zoro a knife and a plate. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” he muttered.

Sanji brought out a loaf of homemade French bread and some lunchmeats and cheeses. He placed two cutting boards on the counter and took out a knife, watching Zoro inspect his own cutting utensil like it was a valuable weapon. The marimo was inches from grabbing a loaf of salami before Sanji snatched it away. “Idiot. Wash your hands first.”

Zoro obeyed and was then granted permission to slice the meat. He did so very carefully, watching Sanji closely as he did the same. The cook, obviously, was able to cut the meat deftly and neatly, leaving a few thin slices on the cutting board. Zoro, on the other hand, scowled at his own jagged hunks of salami. “Ehh…”

“Don’t worry. Look’s great, buddy,” Sanji cooed, twisting his head into the crook of his elbow to sneeze. This made Zoro blush a teensy bit. _Heheh. Buddy._

When they moved on to the cheese, Zoro gave Sanji a sideways glance and an uneasy smile. “I’m not too good at this. Could you just… help me a little?”

Sanji sighed and, moving away from his stack of perfectly sliced gruyère, looked at Zoro’s cutting board. “Fine, I’ll _assist_ you. Helpless moss-head.”

Sanji stepped behind him and placed his hands on Zoro’s, one of which held the cheese block while the other gripped the knife. Zoro’s heart sped up. Sanji’s hands laying over his. Oh my god.

“See, all you have to do is be slow and steady.”

As Sanji pushed Zoro’s hand forward, his body pressed into his back. They continued to make thin slices, and Sanji, apparently getting comfortable in the position, rested his chin on Zoro’s shoulder. “Look at that, you’re a pro already.”

Well. No need to help him anymore. But Sanji couldn’t pull away from Zoro. His hair smelled pretty good. Or was it just the swordsman’s tempting nature that made Sanji want to linger for a while?

Hm. Seemed like the perfect moment to do something stupid.

Sanji let go of Zoro’s hands and slid them under his arms in a little hug. But it wasn’t quite enough. He turned his head and planted a little kiss on the side of Zoro’s face, right in his sideburn stubble.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Zoro exclaimed, turning around and quickly knocking Sanji back a few steps. His face was beginning to redden deeply.

“I’m… so sorry,” Sanji stammered. “Shit, I have no idea what I was thinking.” His face was turning bright red as well.

Zoro dropped the knife on the cutting board and turned around, into Sanji. He was so hot. That thin, lanky body… So unexpectedly robust. So hot, yet Zoro couldn’t accept what was happening. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kiss his face or punch it. Sanji was very close and, boy, was he desirable, but pretty damn aggravating for pulling a move on him like that! Did he really think Zoro was that easy?

“I thought I told you not to touch me!” Zoro demanded.

“ _What?!_ I’ve been touching you all day, you shitwad! What’s the big deal?!”

“You’re fucking weird! Why the hell would you…”—Zoro touched his face where Sanji had kissed him—“…Why would you…”

Forget the awkwardness. Forget that he was sick. Forget that Sanji was sometimes—or _mostly_ all the time—a dick. Forget the bread and the meat and the cheese, and goddammit—Forget about the rest of the crew.

Sanji was there. Zoro was there. Just them.

Sanji’d been shocked and jolted by many electrical kitchen appliances during his lifetime. But he’d never felt electricity like this before. Zoro was like _lightning_ or something.

And, not surprisingly, Zoro was fast as lightning when he grabbed Sanji by the waist and pulled him against his body. His hands gripped into Sanji’s back as he held him in an unbreakable embrace. He couldn’t help himself. The cook was all his. It was all too tempting.

“Zoro, are you okay?” Sanji squeaked, his voice weak.

“No. No, I’m not okay. Help me.” Zoro buried his face into Sanji’s neck. Green hair collided with blond. “I’ve never felt so shitty in my life.”

“Want me to make you feel better?” Sanji asked delicately.

Zoro’s eye widened. Wow. This was actual happening. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never imagined that he’d get this far with anyone, let alone with _Sanji_ of all people. But somehow it happened, and he didn’t even have to think about it.

Sanji took Zoro’s face in his hand and looked at him for a moment. Then, delicately, he touched his finger to Zoro’s face, right at the top of his scar. He traced his finger down the soft, discolored line, and slowly brought his lips to kiss the man below the eye.

Zoro took control. And he did not delay; his lips went straight for Sanji’s. He could feel Sanji’s hands slip under his arms and squeeze him tighter. Zoro took the initiative and slammed Sanji into the kitchen wall, his hands in the guy’s hair and his neck and all over his face. He finished kissing his lips and drew away, his cheeks flushed.

That little euphoric moment only lasted a few seconds. When reality finally settled in again, Zoro began to feel ashamed and embarrassed. How could he do this? How could he kiss Sanji…? _Sanji_. The fucking annoying womanizing cook. _Goddamn_ Sanji.

Sanji was incredible. He was sexy and his lips tasted like cigarettes and Cabernet Sauvignon. He had the power to make Zoro completely forget about feeling sick. Maybe it was love. Zoro had never truly been in love before.

“You still hungry?” Sanji asked slowly.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah. Let’s finish making these damn sandwiches.”

 

 

Sanji and Zoro took their finished sandwiches and sat down on the floor against the wall. Sanji wasn’t exactly a fan of sitting on the ground, but he knew that Zoro preferred it to actual seating. And right now, Sanji _needed_ Zoro close to him. Like, really close. He kept scooting toward him, as if to test how far he could get. But the marimo was completely silent, taking small unsure bites of his sandwich without a word. It was frustrating to Sanji: what was Zoro thinking? He needed some kind of approval, just to assure it was alright to do something flirty.

Ah, fuck it.

Sanji pressed himself against Zoro’s side and let his head fall onto Zoro’s shoulder. He felt very happy with the swordsman; happier than he’d felt in a long while. It made him feel giddy to be right there, with his nose in Zoro’s hair.

“You don’t… mind, do you?” Sanji asked softly.

Zoro, apparently paralyzed by Sanji’s warmth, sniffed and chewed on a bite of bread. “N—no.”

“If you don’t want me to lean on you, just tell me. Seriously. I’m just not feeling so good right now. So I appreciate it.”

“Mm-hm.”

Zoro stared straight ahead, not making eye contact, though Sanji was looking directly at him. This was so nice. It was like a pleasant dream, from which Sanji hoped he’d never wake.

Hopefully the rest of the crew was having such a fantastic time on the island, they wouldn’t be back for hours.

“I don’t… understand,” Zoro said, out of the blue. “Did we just. Did we fucking _kiss?”_

Sanji laughed, nearly choking on his food. He swallowed it down. “We fucking _did.”_ He paused for a moment, watching Marimo finish his sandwich. “I don’t understand it either.” He paused again, tripping over his next words. “But, you know. Living on a boat with almost no time for romance and shit… Why the hell not?”

Zoro was silent. What a surprise.

Sanji stood, stretching and yawning. “Humm. I’m getting really cold.” Luckily there was a big blanket lying over the arm of the sofa. He threw it over his shoulder and brought it back to Zoro, who looked as though he were suffering from the chills too. “You wanna share it?” Sanji asked with a cute smile. Zoro blushed in response.

The two young men snuggled close and tucked the blanket around themselves. Zoro was excited, but of course he couldn’t show it. Sanji was _so_ warm underneath that blanket. And _mm,_ he smelled good. But Zoro couldn’t move; he was frozen solid in place, unable to do the things he desperately wanted to do.

And then he felt Sanji’s hand. It was shy at first, but it crept carefully into Zoro’s hand and held it gently.

“I want to hold your hand,” Sanji muttered, pushing his face closer to Zoro’s.

“O—okay.”

“That’s fine with you?”

“Uh. Yeah.” _Fine with me? Yeah, that’s fine with me. Holy shit, it’s lovely. Please never let go._

“Zoro,” Sanji said quietly. The marimo turned his head and looked right into Sanji’s eyes. It was breathtaking, almost, to hold a steady gaze with him.

“Hm?”

“I like you.”

Zoro didn’t respond. Gawd, it was so typical of that asshole to sit there all dull and quiet. Sanji might as well have been flirting with the wall.

“Did you hear me, shit-marimo?”

“Of course I heard you.”

“Well I like you! A lot.” Sanji cleared his throat. Feeling nervous, he pulled out a cigarette and lit a smoke. Taking a long—and thankfully cough-less—drag, he replaced his hand over Zoro’s beneath the blanket. His cigarette hung out of his mouth and smoke drifted through the air. Zoro loved the smell because it always reminded him of Sanji. The hot burning tobacco made him picture the skinny cook on the deck, his blond hair rustling in the wind, his shiny black shoes stamping out his cigarette butt. Zoro liked Sanji a lot too, he realized. He liked him so much when he thought of all the little things Sanji did that made him smile. Or smile mentally, at least.

“You’re fucking awful to flirt with,” Sanji scoffed. “Nami and Robin are _much_ better for that than you. But…” He smiled in this devilish sort of way that almost kinda turned Zoro on.

“But what?”

“Well it’s about time you said something.”

“Sanji. But _what?_ What were you gonna say?” Zoro blinked his eye, his gaze unfaltering.

“I dunno. What would you like me to say?”

“… Just. Don’t say anything.”

Sanji breathed heavily and put out his cigarette with a smile. Zoro’s breath hitched as Sanji scooted down to place his hand on his collarbone. Zoro was so strong and largely-built, but at this moment, he was unbelievably gentle. Sanji couldn’t have asked for anyone else to make him feel warm and loved. He curled down and tucked his head beneath Zoro’s chin, pulling the blanket up to his nose. He slid his hands around Zoro’s waist and made himself comfy on the swordsman’s chest, which was strong yet surprisingly cushiony. They shared their warmth for a little while, both of them feeling sick and tired but comfortable with each other’s company.

And neither of them said anything as they fell asleep.

 

Hours later, Sanji blinked his eyes open to find that Zoro had him in some kind of tight hug under the blanket. Not very comfortable, but cute. That marimo had no idea how to be romantic, but somehow that was what made him most appealing to Sanji. The green-haired idiot was still dead asleep with his mouth slightly open, his breathing steady and slow. And how cute was _that._ Sometime during their nap, Zoro had wrapped his arms around Sanji. The cook felt bad for having to wake him up.

“Hey. Marimo. You’re strangling me,” he said, shoving Zoro lightly. “Dammit. Zoro. Wake up.”

Zoro woke sluggishly. He loosened his grip around Sanji’s shoulders with reluctance, finally realizing what he was doing. “Oh. Sorry.” He withdrew his arms with embarrassment.

“I really have to get to Chopper’s doctor office,” Sanji groaned, pulling himself to his feet. “I need something for my throat. It’s killing me.”

“I’ll go with you.” Zoro stood up.

Ah, he probably needed some medicine. Or did he just want to walk with Sanji?

Sanji was almost out the door of the kitchen when something stopped him. Zoro grabbed his hand. And the muscular man was walking right by his side. He casually looked straight ahead, as if the two men were accustomed to holding each other’s hands for years.

“Just in case you, um. Pass out on the way there,” Zoro muttered.

“Glad you’re looking out for me.”

They walked slowly to the infirmary with their hands interlocked. Looked like it was Sanji’s turn to feel really shitty, and Zoro’s turn to be the comforter. Too bad he was really crappy at comforting people.

Once inside the sick bay, Sanji found the medicine he was looking for. Unfortunately, however, it was that revolting liquid kind that tasted like something from the depths of hell. Being a skilled chef and all, Sanji knew very well when something tasted awful. And medicine was no exception. He downed a spoonful quickly, gagging a little.

“Ew. That’s terrible.” Sanji raised his brows. “Your turn, Marimo.”

“I don’t need it,” Zoro said, though his persistent throat-clearing made it obvious that he needed some relief.

“You scared of a little bad-tasting medicine?”

“Hey, asshole. I’ve endured a lot of pain in my life. You think I’d be scared to take _medicine?”_

“I don’t know. It’s wild-shit-cherry flavored. I’d be scared if I were you.”

Zoro crossed his arms over his chest, his hands pulled into his long sleeves. “I’m fine. I’m strong. I don’t need medicine.”

Sanji poured a spoonful of the syrupy liquid, a wicked smile spreading over his face. “Open wide! Here comes the train!”

“Fuck. Seriously?”

Sanji persisted with the spoon, trying to get it into Zoro’s mouth. But, just like a little kid, Zoro turned his head every time the spoon neared his lips. He was smiling a little bit, and his one open eye was shining and bright. Damn that cute winky face.

“You’re a stubborn little shit, aren’t you?” Sanji said, holding the spoon near Zoro’s face. “I don’t care how tough you are. I want you to get better.”

Sanji knew _exactly_ how to get that medicine in Zoro’s mouth. And it’d be easy. But he didn’t know if it was appropriate for the moment. Oh well.

Sanji leaned forward and kissed Zoro softly. Just enough for the marimo to part his lips a bit. And then he pulled away and brought the spoon to Zoro’s mouth to tip the liquid in. Easy as that.

Zoro coughed on the medicine, but his face looked so tranquil, yet somewhat yearning. Like he wanted more of that kiss.

“You like that?” Sanji asked playfully.

“Do it again.”

“You want more medicine, huh?”

“You ass. Come ‘ere.”

Zoro just couldn’t help himself anymore. Now that he and Sanji had sort of tested the waters, it was safe to say they were comfortable with each other. He didn’t know how it was all happening. He’d always had that little tinge of a crush on the cook, but now Sanji was just hot. Sexy. So kissable, it was almost criminal.

When their lips came together, there was this wonderful chemistry between them. How could Sanji have not noticed it before? I mean, ladies were really fun to flirt, and their bodies. Mm, their busty, curvy bodies. But Zoro was so wonderful in a different way that Sanji had never before considered sexy. His sharp facial structure felt like perfection in Sanji’s hands, and his muscular body against Sanji’s was warm and exciting.

Zoro grabbed the collar of Sanji’s shirt and held him tightly, forcing his face farther into Sanji’s. He could kiss him for hours. Itching to touch the swordsman’s chest, Sanji slid his hands under Zoro’s haramaki and felt the warmth of his belly. His hands could feel those nice firm abs, and the thin indentation of that long scar across Zoro’s chest. He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around his back so he could really be encompassed by that sexy marimo.

Then, Zoro just _had_ to do it. He reached for Sanji’s shirt and opened the buttons one-by-one until the cook’s chest was bare, Sanji’s lips all over Zoro’s neck the whole time. The swordsman placed his hands on Sanji’s soft, peachy-white tummy and licked the corner of his mouth, his breath hot in Sanji’s face. Boiling with sensation, the blond ducked down and kissed Zoro’ chest over and over again. He couldn’t stop. Dammit, there was no way he could pull himself away from Zoro.

Meanwhile, Zoro’s hands remained up Sanji’s shirt. The man’s skin was so soft and flawless under his palms. Sanji’s heart raced as he nuzzled Zoro’s neck and kissed him all the way up his chin. The cook’s stubble scratched Zoro’s cleanly-shaven face as he pecked Zoro’s nose sweetly and ran his soft hand over his neck up to his ear, feeling the three little holes where his earrings would have been. Then he nipped Zoro’s lip with his teeth, making the swordsman groan a bit. It was amazing how well Sanji was beginning to memorize Zoro’s body, after only a short time of intimacy. He knew exactly how Zoro’d react to his movements, and which places were the most tender to kiss.

The sharing of affection went on for a while, but soon drew to a close. Both men were surprised that they’d been able to pull apart, but they could only shudder with the thought of Chopper returning to the ship and walking into his doctor’s quarters to find… Well, _them._ Nevertheless, they walked out of the room with their hands on each other’s waists. And they didn’t say anything.

Just like a normal doctor visit, right? Go in feeling like shit, come out feeling relieved, with a whole new mentality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Will update soon!


	3. Terrible and Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Zoro and Sanji still feel pretty sick, they're starting to worry about where their crew might be. Now is the time for adventure, and confusion over their crazy feelings for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Sorry for the late update! I was expecting to update earlier, but life has been busy so I wasn't able to. Anyway, here is chapter three! Enjoy~

 Yep, Sanji had really started to feel terrible. It was a good thing Zoro was there; he was a lovely pillow to lie back on. Although they were both happy and relaxed, this nagging feeling lingered in Zoro’s head. The crew had been gone for a long time. They hadn’t planned an overnight trip, had they? From the looks of it, they hadn’t taken any supplies with them. Zoro’s chest tightened with worry, but every damn time he looked down and saw Sanji’s sweet face asleep on his lap, his stress started melting away. His hair was golden and soft, and the little whiskers on his chin made Zoro want to grab him by the jaw and kiss his face all over.

But the thought would eventually come back. _What if they don’t show before sundown?_ Zoro thought. _What if they’ve all been kidnapped or killed or prisoned somewhere?_

No, Zoro. Stop thinking that way. I mean, look at Sanji! He’s cute as fuck and—

God dammit. Zoro rubbed his face with his hand, taking a deep breath as his blood pumped with apprehension. _No, the crew is definitely fine. The only reason I’m worried is because I’m not there. But don’t worry, Zoro. They can fight without you. Luffy can do anything._

Zoro looked from the deck at the pretty island in front of them. No sign of the crew anywhere. But it was such a beautiful, tranquil place! There certainly couldn’t be anything threatening there to worry about. They were just having so much fun, they couldn’t possibly leave. Yeah—that’s it!

Which would be preferable. Because although Zoro wanted to know that his crew was safe, his time spent alone with Sanji was too priceless to end.

Zoro touched Sanji’s forehead gingerly. That cook was _so_ handsome. And the way he was sitting—and sleeping—between Zoro’s legs, with his head resting on his chest. Just like a little baby. A really fucking tall little baby. And his hair! It was sorta falling off to the side, showing off the side of his face that was usually covered by that blond curtain of bangs.

So cute.

But dammit, Zoro, you’re supposed to be worrying about your crew!

Zoro shifted a bit beneath Sanji, causing the cook to stir. “Ughn…” He opened his gray-blue eyes, coughing a little as he came to life.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Zoro said sarcastically.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, _someone’s_ bitchy after his nap.”

Sanji raised an arm and smashed his hand onto Zoro’s face. “Right. As if I’m the only one.”

Zoro grabbed Sanji’s hand and pried it from his face. “Hey. Cook. Do you think we should start worrying about the crew now?”

Sanji couldn’t help but notice the tension in Zoro’s voice. “Why? How late is it?”

Zoro studied the angle of the sun for a moment, shielding his face from the light. “Mm, I dunno. Maybe five. Or six.”

“Shit. Really? I must’ve slept a while.” Sanji smiled a little. “Hm, it almost seems I’m beginning to take after a certain marimo,” he added.

“Yeah, right. But really, where the hell are they? It’s been hours.”

“Ah, let them be for a while longer. Besides, I don’t wanna move. You’re surprisingly comfy.”

“You don’t have to move,” Zoro said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

Sanji, the back of his head leaning on Zoro’s chest, looked up at the swordsman and touched his face softly. “You know what? You’re really cute when you act like that.”

“Like how?” His face reddened.

“Like, all adorable. And kinda flirty. It’s unlike you to act like that.”

Sanji couldn’t quite explain it in words. It was when the marimo pressed his lips together, and his one open eye glinted with mischief. It was when he made that face, like “I want to grin like an idiot but I’m fuckin Zoro and I’ll be damned if I smile at that shitty cook.” It was a face Sanji saw almost every day, and up until now, he had never appreciated it for the endearing gesture it was.

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

Sanji shifted, leaning his head to the side so his cheek rested on Zoro’s pects. “Bleh. I wish I felt better.”

“Shit, you gonna hurl on me?” Zoro inquired, a bit alarmed.

“Nah, I just feel awful. Throat is still scratchy as hell.”

Zoro felt a little drip fall onto his nose. He looked up to find the sky to be shrouded in gray clouds. Since it was evening and the sun was falling below the horizon, he hadn’t noticed that it was overcast. More drips began to dot Zoro’s clothes and hair.

“Hey,” Sanji said, wiping his cheek, “is it raining, or are you drooling on me?”

“It’s raining, asshole.”

“Hm. It’s been a while since we’ve been caught in a good rain.”

“Wanna go inside?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t help our sicknesses to be out here.”

Zoro helped Sanji stand up and let the cute cook lean onto him as they walked inside. They entered the kitchen, and Sanji’s eyes immediately drifted to the food supply. Zoro could tell he was thinking, and more specifically, he could tell Sanji was concerned.

“Zoro,” Sanji started, the pitch of his voice slightly elevated with worry. “Do you think…? Do you think they’re hungry?”

“What?”

“The crew. They didn’t bring any food with them. Obviously they weren’t planning to be out all day, were they?”

“No. Well, I don’t know. But it seems like they should be back by now.”

Sanji leaned farther onto Zoro, as if he was losing strength by the minute. “Shit. What should we do?”

“I just asked if you were worried five minutes ago, and you said no!”

“Well when it comes to food, I start to worry. No member of this crew will go hungry, as long as I can help it.”

Zoro let out a long sigh. “Should we go look for them?”

“I can barely stand. Be damned if I can even get myself off the ship.”

“You stay here and rest. I’ll be back.” Zoro started to guide Sanji to the couch.

“Are you kidding me? You’re as sick as I am. If we go, we go together.” Sanji furrowed his brow and half-smiled. “Besides. I’d have to be shit-faced drunk to let you go out there on your own. You would have _no_ damn idea where you’re going.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Zoro walked out the door, his pace unusually slow. Damn that marimo. Sanji could tell he didn’t feel well at all, but he insisted on going.

There was no way Sanji could let Zoro go alone. Nakama stood up for nakama. That was what it meant to be a crew. He followed Zoro out the door and grabbed onto his wrists from behind without a word.

“Hey cook, I thought I told you to stay?!”

“I know what you told me.”

Zoro heaved a breath, partially with annoyance and also with relief. Of course he wanted Sanji’s company, but he didn’t want to show it. Unable to argue any further, Zoro threw his arm over Sanji’s shoulder and helped him make his way across the Sunny.

Once the guys were off the boat and on land, the rain had started to pick up. Sanji’s long bangs were soaked and Zoro’s coat was heavy with moisture. Both men were sniffing and wiping their noses on their sleeves. But their crew needed to be found, and no rain or runny noses could stop them.

“What are we supposed to do?” Zoro asked, glancing around in the deepening dark.

“Hell if I know.” Sanji smoothed his wet hair. “It’s funny how this place looked so pretty earlier, and now that it’s dark, it looks like any old piece of shit island. Even _I_ don’t know what to do, and I actually have a decent sense of direction.”

“Shut up and walk, cook.”

Zoro needed a good punch in the face. But damn, he was being so soft and gentle with Sanji that hitting him might trigger an earthquake. The marimo’s arm hugged Sanji close to his side with their shoulders pressed together. Their feet aligned in a slow, uniform pace, and the raindrops beat down on them as cold and piercing as a spray of bullets.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed nearby. Inevitably it was getting closer. Zoro glanced behind them at the Sunny, lit dimly by the moon. It was sort of reassuring to see their ship floating on the water, knowing that it would always be there if the two of them had to make a run back home.

But that would not be happening. Sanji and Zoro would come back with the crew, or not come back at all.

“Zoro, the lightning’s getting really close,” Sanji warned in a raspy voice.

“I know. But don’t worry, it won’t—”

_Crack!_ A tree lit up with electricity, not twenty feet away. Zoro could almost feel it pulse through his body.

“Fuck. Let’s get the hell away from here,” Sanji swore quietly.

“Isn’t standing beneath a tree the smart thing to do? Or is that what _not_ to do in a thunderstorm?”

“Zoro, please. Should we just… Jeez, this has to be the worst timing for a storm _ever.”_

“Just hold up. I bet we’ll find them soon.”

Sanji buried his face into the fabric of Zoro’s coat. The swordsman was so warm and comforting. All that time, all those many, many days spent with Zoro, Sanji had never understood how strangely beautiful that green haired idiot was. He was out of his mind for having never leaned on Zoro. Was this the only time that they would ever act like this? Would their hugs turn back into fistfights tomorrow?

But oh no, Sanji couldn’t just say goodbye to his affections for Zoro. Marimo-kun’s kiss packed enough punch to knock Sanji half unconscious. He wanted to experience that again.

Sanji looked at Zoro. He was so handsome when he was nervous like that. Too handsome. He just had to…

“Zoro.”

“Huh? What?”

“If I wanted to… you know, _be with you_ , would you… accept to that?”

Zoro stopped in his tracks and blinked a couple times. “Aren’t you… with me right now?”

Sanji pursed his lips in a tight frown. “No. _Agh,_ Zoro, you don’t get it.”

They went silent for a moment. Over the past few hours, Zoro had almost convinced himself that all their touching and kissing on each other had been a fever-induced fantasy. But no, it had to have been real. He could still feel Sanji’s lips against his own, and now that he thought about it, he wanted to feel it all over again. And when he looked at that adorable cook, the amorousness in Sanji’s blue eyes basically sealed the deal. Zoro’s mind spun like crazy. Of course he knew what Sanji meant by wanting to “be with him.” But Zoro couldn’t come up with anything to say that wasn’t completely stupid. Why the hell was Sanji even asking that? Shit, why was love so difficult…?

“I like you too, Sanji,” Zoro blurted, remembering Sanji’s words from earlier. _I like you, Zoro. I like you a lot!_ Stupid. Stupid Zoro. Is that _really_ the only thing you could think of?

Sanji huffed and squeezed Zoro’s hand in his own. “Ah, man. Marimo, I just… I just don’t want to feel unwelcome holding your hand or kissing you and shit. I wanna be able to do it without it feeling awkward. So I’m asking you: can we… be a thing? Together?” The blond cleared his throat. “Only if you want to. I mean, I don’t wanna force you to—”

_Flash! Boom!_ Sounds of the storm erupted once again. And that rain was fucking terrible. Terrible and beautiful, and oh god, Sanji looked so hot right now.

“Yes.”

Sanji’s mouth opened as if to speak, but he closed it again, wishing he could light a cig in the pouring rain. Anything to stop his mouth from turning up into a dumb grin. _“Yes_ is all you can say?”

Sure, it was all he could say. But not all he could do. Zoro’s hands went directly for Sanji’s collar and he pulled that guy into his face with all his might. There was nothing stopping him from sliding his tongue in the cook’s mouth, and from grasping that soft hair with his hands. In return, Sanji fumbled around the tie holding Zoro’s coat closed. In seconds the wine-red sash was on the ground and Sanji’s hands were on Zoro’s stomach. He groped that fine muscular torso and followed Zoro’s lead when his forcefulness pushed Sanji backward. That’s when the cook’s shoe hit an exposed tree root, sending him ass-down onto the sandy grass.

“Ouch! _Shit.”_

“You okay, cook?”

“Yeah, I’m—”

Zoro dropped himself on top of Sanji, immediately taking advantage of the vulnerable position to kiss him into the earth. Their lips collided and intersected, then relaxed as they pulled away. Zoro pinned Sanji’s shoulders down with his palms and lowered his face once more to nibble Sanji along the jaw. “I _do_ want to be together,” Zoro muttered, his breathing elevated. “I want to so badly but I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Why?” Sanji breathed. “Who the fuck cares. I love you. I don’t give a shit what the rest of them want to say about us. Being a couple isn’t gonna impede on our fighting or our loyalty to the crew.”

“I just don’t. Don’t want to admit that I’m in love with somebody. It’ll make me look... I don’t know, less strong, and all softhearted and shit.”

“Shut up. It’s because it’s embarrassing for you, right? If you truly wanted to be in a relationship with me, you wouldn’t be embarrassed about it. Zoro. If you don’t want to, just say it.”

“I _do_ want to! _Ugh! Fine!_ I don’t care what the crew thinks! I want to be with you, Sanji! I really do!” Zoro stopped, suddenly realizing that he was yelling, and that his hands were tightening around Sanji’s shirt. He relaxed and sighed. “Sorry…”

“Oh, come here.” Sanji sat up and wrapped his arms around Zoro. “You stupid asshole.”

They stayed in an embrace for a while, until a coughing fit broke Sanji away. He was _really_ not feeling good. How he’d even found the energy to walk this far from the boat was a mystery. “I need to rest here for a little while,” Sanji rasped. “I feel like I’m gonna die. But don’t you try to go anywhere on your own, you hear me, Marimo?”

“I’m not gonna leave you.”

Zoro sat and let Sanji lie down on him, just like earlier. Sanji began to shiver, so Zoro, being the gentlemen he was, took off his long coat and draped it over the other man. His thoughts became conflicted. Sanji was obviously feeling very sick, and Zoro didn’t feel so great himself. Should they just go back to the Sunny? No, he had to keep an eye out for the crew. They could be in danger.

Sanji and Zoro would rest for a few minutes, and then they’d continue searching.

The rain persisted and Sanji fell limp into Zoro’s lap. Zoro shielded the other man with his body, letting the rain pelt his back instead of Sanji’s. Boy, did he need rest, and looking at sleepy relaxed Sanji made him jealous. But he couldn’t just sit there and expect the crew to come to him.

“Hey, hang in there Sanji. I’m gonna carry you, okay?”

Sanji blinked his eyes open groggily. “You better not fucking take me back to the ship. I won’t let you. You’re not walking around alone.”

“I won’t take you back,” Zoro said. “I’ll take you with me.”

“No, don’t…” Sanji grumbled as Zoro gently grasped Sanji around his midriff and heaved him upward. Holding him like a lady on her wedding day, in her groom’s arms. Sanji just let it happen. He knew Zoro was strong as hell, so he didn’t have to worry about being hard to carry. He lay his head back and closed his eyes.

Zoro walked forward, hoping desperately for some sign of his nakama. He was holding a handsome, sick cook in his arms, the rain was falling like crazy, and his crew was nowhere to be found.

What was he going to do with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading chapter three! Four will be out soon! (also I apologize that this chapter was kinda short. I promise to have longer ones soon).


	4. All That Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new lovers make an unexpected encounter with someone they've been looking for! But things are looking so great for Sanji, whose fever is making him think and say funny things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for waiting so patiently for this next chapter! With school starting and such, I've been very busy. : But I am so happy to have another chapter completed, and I hope you enjoy the fluff~~ (Also, endless thankies for the kudos and comments. It means so much to me!) ( ˘ ³˘)❤

Zoro’s body was dizzying. Being enclosed in his arms made Sanji feel kinda giddy, despite the fact that he was too tired to hold his own head up. He wanted so badly to help find the others, and to demand that poor Zoro take back his coat—stupid marimo never wore a shirt under it—but he just couldn’t. _Why did I even bother coming along?_ he thought. _I’m only adding onto Zoro’s stress. The only thing I’ll be good for is telling that idiot how to find his way back to the ship._

Sanji couldn’t get himself satisfyingly close enough to Zoro. He had to keep nestling deeper into his arms, sticking his cold hands into Zoro’s haramaki. The rain was coming down damn hard. He was so weak, he didn’t know if he could speak for much longer, but he had to. He had to talk to Zoro. It was about the only thing that could keep him sane, with the turmoil of sick feelings twisting around his insides.

Come to think of it, Zoro’s cute marimo face invoked very similar feelings, though twice as intense. Twisting his insides around. But it was a _good_ kind of violent swaying. It was like riding the Thousand Sunny through a fast current: pleasantly thrilling, beautiful, and almost a little terrifying.

“Oi. Marimo.”

“Shut up. Just go to sleep or something.”

“No, dammit. Listen to me.”

Walking through the mud, which was quickly becoming wetter and stickier with the rain, Zoro looked down at the cook in his arms. His eyes were almost apologetic, the way he lay his head back so feebly.

“Nami-san and Robin-chan…” Sanji started, mumbling.

Zoro’s brows scrunched together. “What about them?”

“I still love my ladies, okay? But will assure you I… I love you much more.”

“Haha, believe me. I’m aware that you’ll be lusting after those women all your life.”

Sanji paused for a moment. “Don’t you think they’re beautiful?”

Of course Zoro thought the ladies were beautiful. Hell, he’d go as far as saying they were certainly quite stunning. But Zoro had never been attracted to the girls enough to want a relationship, or to want sex or anything. No, not at all. Before, he had always blamed his disinterest in women on his lifestyle; on the pursuit of his dream, and on the hours of perpetual training that didn’t allow time for romance.

And now, it felt almost as though the curtain of naivety had been lifted off his eyes. It was Sanji. Yes, it was the annoying blond chef with the dumb eyebrows. Zoro couldn’t even say he was into men in general. But one thing was certain: he was most definitely into Sanji, and that was all that mattered.

“Marimo, what the hell are you thinking about?” Sanji snapped, though his voice was soft.

“Nothing—”

“Don’t you dare be dreaming about _my_ ladies. I only asked you if you thought they were beautiful.”

“Well sure, they’re pretty.”

“They really are, aren’t they?”

“Uh, y—”

“You’re pretty too, Zoro.”

Wow. Was that …? Did Sanji just compare Zoro to one of his precious goddesses? Was that even possible?

“And Zoro,” Sanji continued, “no matter how much I flirt with and tease those girls, I’ll still love you.”

“As if I’d expect you to stop being yourself, love-cook. If you didn’t coddle over those ladies there’d be something really wrong with you.”

Sanji exhaled and closed his eyes, leaning on Zoro’s chest. “I’m glad you’re able to like me for myself. Because so far it’s barely gotten me anywhere in my love life.” Sanji snickered.

“Maybe it’s because you come on to women like a fucking try-hard man-whore.”

Sanji swatted Zoro’s face. “Shut the fuck up. Gah, you make me ill. Dammit, where’s a smoke when I need one…”

Yep, he was just Sanji. And Zoro liked that. He liked everything about him a little too much. He loved their bickering and arguments. He loved how the cook made him so piss-angry all the time. Sanji, of all the crewmembers, seemed to invoke the widest variety of emotions within Zoro, and boy were those emotions going haywire right now.

“Now, seriously,” Sanji continued, coughing. “Are we a couple or what?”

Zoro could feel the heat flaring in his cheeks. He could try to say something vague and kinda flirty. Like _Heehee, I don’t know! I guess we are…_ But fucking EW. Zoro didn’t talk like that. He just had to say something not stupid… “Yes.”

Sanji’s eyes widened a bit, then proceeded to close as a warm smile grew over his face. He didn’t reply verbally, but the way he snuggled into Zoro’s coat—which Sanji was still wearing; poor cold Marimo—and quickly kissed the swordsman’s bare chest… Well, that said it all. It was a done deal.

“Have you seen any sign of them?” Sanji asked gently.

“No.”

“Huuh. Okay.”

The rain, which had been steadily sprinkling for a while, picked up its pace, to the discouragement of Zoro and Sanji. The air cooled off even more and the dirt was becoming muddier than Zoro thought possible. His black boots—which had looked quite nice before he’d set out that night—were caked with chunks of wet earth. And he wouldn’t admit it to Sanji, but he was very cold without his coat. And sick. He felt lethargic, and plain gross.

Zoro decided it was time for another break. A few more steps and he was sure he’d fall over dead. He lowered Sanji to the ground and let him lay in his lap. God dammit, where the _hell_ was the crew? He was feeling terribly miserable and pathetic. He would never find them. He’d let his captain down, and all the other Strawhats.

He lowered his face to Sanji’s and curled his arms around the man in his lap, so close that their chests pressed together. He wasn’t even certain Sanji was fully awake, but he kissed the cook’s lips softly. Zoro was embarrassed and wonderfully pleased all at once. How many times now had the unexpected lovers kissed? Zoro blushed deeper and tried to push away all feelings of awkwardness. Sanji pulled his face into a smile, no matter how damned tired he was. And the scenario, oh god was it rainy and gloomy, yet so romantic.

“Marimo,” Sanji muttered. “You’re a shy kisser.”

“Huh?” Zoro blushed harder, as if that was even possible, with his cheeks being the boldest shade of pink they’d ever been.

“You’re… - _cough-_ too unsure.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Sanji exhaled shakily, in what could have been a frail laugh. “It’s just funny. Coming from a big, strong guy like you with such great ambitions. Your kisses are… so cute.”

“Dammit. Cute? I’ll make you regret saying that.”

What could Zoro do? Decline a challenge? Hell no. And he’d be damned if this wasn’t a challenge. He leaned to engulf Sanji’s face, his hands around the cook’s body, when the sound of twigs snapping woke him from his sensuous bliss.

_Shit! There’s someone there!_

First there was a figure. Just a faint outline, black against the sky. Then, a voluminous mass of black hair swung around to reveal a familiar face, easily identifiable by the abnormally long nose.

Usopp. It was Usopp. Zoro didn’t know whether to be overjoyed upon finding a crew member, or utterly mortified to have been in such a position in front of him. Had Usopp seen it? The kiss? The unmistakably sexy way Zoro was embracing Sanji? Oh yeah, that. Should probably stop doing that…

“Usopp!” Zoro called, his voice cracking a bit.

“Zoro! I can’t believe it’s—and… and Sanji!” The long-nosed man’s round eyes opened wider. “Oh. I see that you’re…”

“Where the hell is everyone?” Zoro demanded, deciding to go about with the conversation, not minding the cute cook in his lap, whose body still lay encompassed by Zoro’s arms.

“I don’t know,” Usopp replied. He sounded exasperated, and his words came in spurts, as though he was winded from running. “Just get me out of here.”

“I won’t move until you tell me what the fuck is happening,” Zoro declared. “Where’re Luffy and the others?”

Usopp adjusted his suspenders, which were falling off his shoulders. He definitely looked like he’d been running around in a panic. “If I’m not mistaken, they’re all together. But I don’t know where they went. I was just—” he paused to catch his breath. “I’ll tell you everything. But we need to get back to the Sunny right now. Before more weird crap happens here. Besides, aren’t you two sick?” He looked uneasily at the couple, unbeknownst to the newfound chemistry between them. Though something looked to be off about the cook and the swordsman.

“Is Sanji okay?” Usopp asked.

Upon the mention of his name, the curly-browed cook blinked open an eye. “I’m shitty,” he mumbled.

“We’re going right now,” Usopp asserted, expecting Zoro and Sanji to stand. “I don’t want—” A crack of thunder rung out in the atmosphere, nearly sending Usopp to his death with the startling noise. “AAH!!” His legs began to jitter.

Carefully situating Sanji in his arms, Zoro carried him as he had before, and let Usopp lead the way back.

“I’m so glad I finally made it back over here,” Usopp said, his voice shaking. “I was afraid I’d never find my way back to the ocean.” He looked doubtfully at Zoro and Sanji, an expression of concern folding between his brows. “You gonna be okay carrying him, Zoro?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Just don’t get in a fight or something.”

Oh, that won’t be happening.

 

Finally back on board, the three crewmates settled down at the table. Sanji sat next to Zoro, his limp body barely able to sit upright, and his head leaning against Zoro’s shoulder. The swordsman—quite awkwardly, in the presence of Usopp—fumbled with his coat, which Sanji was still wearing. He gently pulled it off the cook and hung it over the back of the chair.

“So, it was the weirdest thing,” Usopp continued his story. “The moment we got onto the island, the sky went dark, like it had its own atmosphere or something. I was just following everyone like usual, and then everyone just disappeared! Like _poof!_ Just gone. I’d only stayed behind for two minutes to look at the sky, and I ran ahead to catch up, and I couldn’t find them anywhere. I looked for hours, having no idea what time it was because it was permanently night!” Usopp slumped over and rested his head in his hands. “Then it started storming! And several times, I was just inches from being electrocuted! The trees kept getting _zapped!_ Right in front of my eyes!” He pointed at his face, suddenly gaining some enthusiasm. “But the great Captain Usopp was so brave! I risked my life to search for the crew!”

“And I guess that would explain why you were running around like a terrified maniac.”

“I was very brave! Okay, Zoro?!” Usopp assumed his tired, hunched position once again. “But man, I’m exhausted! And scared. I hope they’re okay.”

“We’re going to find them,” Zoro avowed. “We’ll go back out after we rest.”

“I don’t know, Zoro,” Usopp replied wearily. “I mean, come on, it’s _Luffy._ They have Devil Fruit users on their side. They’ll be okay for a while. And you guys shouldn’t be out in the wet cold anyway! Especially Sanji.” He looked at the poor blond, passed out against Zoro’s shoulder.

“Well that’s… different,” Usopp remarked with a comical snort.

“What?”

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you guys make any physical contact that wasn’t grabbing and kicking.”

Sanji was just too precious right now. Zoro couldn’t believe he’d ever had the nerve to punch him in the face. “Well he’s not feeling good. I’m not a complete asshole, you know.”

“Pfft. Well, this kind of affection between you guys is new to me.”

Sanji, seeming to drift between being awake and unconscious, open his dazed eyes and smiled. He nearly looked drunk or high, or something. He was probably running a high fever, making him delirious.

“Heyyy. Marimo-kun,” he slurred, coughing.

“Shut up. You sound retarded.”

“Noo. You shuhtuuhh…” His head fell limp once again. Zoro gave Usopp a quick shrug, wishing he had some sort of explanation for the behavior.

“Fever?” Zoro suggested. Usopp raised his eyebrows and frowned.

“No you fuhcking listn to me, Marimo. You— _cough—_ You aren’t finish’d, you knoow.”

Zoro tried to elbow him, anything to stop him. “Uhh, maybe he needs some aspirin? Fever must be pretty bad,” he said, wincing.

“You better kisss me again, you gaht it?” Sanji wrapped his weak, shaky arms around Zoro’s own arm.

_Oh, hell no. Oh shit._

“Kiss me like you did the last time, okaay?”

Usopp flinched a bit and frowned deeper. “He is definitely not okay, is he?”

Zoro swore in his head when he felt the blush filling his cheeks again. Not now. Really? Why now. “Hey. Stop being a weird fuck.” He nudged Sanji, trying to get him to let go. Dammit Sanji. Dammit Usopp. Dammit stupid blushing face.

“Why won’t Marimo kiss meee?” Sanji, his eyes still glazed over and half closed, tried to nuzzle Zoro’s neck.

“Sanji, god dammit! Go back to sleep, you ass!” Zoro hissed, glancing at Usopp nervously. “Hey, get this man some aspirin, would you?”

Usopp stood quickly and scooted toward the door. “Y-yeah. Aye-aye _Captain Zoro._ Be right back with that.”

As soon as the black-haired man had left, Zoro shrugged Sanji off and held him up below the armpits. “You’d better recover from this damn fever _quickly._ You embarrassing little shit.”

Once Usopp had returned and administered the medicine to Sanji as best he could, Zoro decided to help the cook to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Usopp had already washed up and changed his clothes, so he waited in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee.

It was weird. Trying to peel wet, muddy clothes off a half-conscious Sanji. Weird but kinda hot. Zoro was hoping the fever reducer would just kick in already, so Sanji might feel good enough to disrobe himself. But it looked like Zoro was the man for the job. He sat on the side of the bath and set Sanji between his legs on the edge. He brought his hands around Sanji’s tummy to hold him from falling forward.

“Just. Put your. Damn arm through the sleeve,” Zoro grunted, pulling the soggy, mud-stiffened shirt loose from Sanji’s body. Oh wait. Buttons. If the process wasn’t so hard, Zoro thought, it _would_ be pretty sexy. Unbuttoning Sanji-kun’s shirt slowly…

The top finally came off and fell on the ground in a splat of wet dirt. He held Sanji’s bare stomach now, and he had to take a moment to just sit there, hugging the cook close. A beautiful moment. And next moment, he knew, would consist of removing Sanji’s pants.

Zoro’s heart sped up. _Shit, what do I even do?_

Was he supposed to be turned on, or just awkward-feeling?

He unzipped, pulled the legs down, slid off the boxers. There. Done. Now he just had to…

Get Sanji into the bathtub. No problem, right? But what the fuck was Zoro supposed to do now? Wash the guy?

The marimo stripped himself and got into the large tub as well, trying to hold his sick nakama above the water. It was so funny how, after seeing the awful condition Sanji was in, Zoro felt hardly sick at all anymore. Or maybe he was just tough. And Sanji was a pussy.

He got some of Sanji’s shampoo, recognizing its nice smell as he poured it into his hand. He’d detected that scent many times around Sanji, whenever the cook walked by quickly or swept a hand through his hair. Mm, it was a good smell. Sort of flowery, but manly enough to suit Sanji well.

Zoro had never washed hair longer than his own, which he didn’t even wash very often himself. But he tried his best to lather Sanji’s blond curtain of bangs and wash them with the rest of the hair. Zoro took advantage of this moment to stare at Sanji’s face. It wasn’t every day that he got to see the cook’s entire face at once, with those long bangs covering one side. He was so beautiful. Even with those dumb eyebrows.

Then Zoro rinsed out his hair, and took some of Sanji’s shampoo for himself, because why not? And he scrubbed his green hair clean. He really could benefit from a routinely shampooing, now that his hair had grown out a bit.

After making sure all the mud had been washed off their skin, Zoro drained the tub and toweled Sanji dry, doing the same for himself. It was hard getting the lanky guy to sit up, given that he wasn’t technically awake. But at least he could just look at Sanji for a while, watching his sweet face and slow breathing, without him knowing.

Zoro’d brought some clean clothes in with him: a tee shirt and black pants for himself, and for Sanji, some comfortable pants and a white sweater. Because it was warm and cozy. And also because Zoro loved Sanji in that sweater. He just wouldn’t tell him that of course.

Once they were dressed—getting Sanji into his clothes was an adventure—there was an important issue to address. Sanji’s hair. Although it was wet and unmanageable, there was no way Zoro could leave it smoothed back, showing both of his eyes like that. He used his fingers to gently comb it down as it usually was. There, perfect. But Sanji’s face was too cute. Damn. Zoro left a little kiss on his nose. And another on his cheek. And maybe. Just maybe. Another on his lips.

Sanji groaned a little bit to Zoro’s surprise, then opened his eyes, thankfully looking a little more alert than he had before. And less like he was drugged.

“Marimo? What the hell…?” he mumbled.

“How’re ya feeling?”

“Did you… _bathe_ me?” Sanji’s blue gaze widened.

“Yeah. It’s not like we’ve never been in the bath together before.” Honestly. Nakama bathed with nakama.

“No, I get that. It’s just—did you fucking wash my body?”

Zoro blushed a teeny bit. “I, uh.”

Sanji began to smile, slowly gaining control of his tired body. “Thanks.”

No more words were exchanged as the two exited the bathroom together, Zoro’s arm wrapped around Sanji’s waist to support him. Or more likely, just to feel him next to himself.

They didn’t mind walking past Usopp in the kitchen, who obviously witnessed their display of affection. And Zoro helped Sanji into bed, wishing he could sleep as well, and possibly be able to fully recover. But helping determine what happened to the crew was his job to do.

Zoro wondered how much Usopp had picked up on. Maybe Usopp suspected something was up. Maybe he didn’t. Not that it mattered.

As Zoro left Sanji to rest in his hammock, he delicately brushed the blond’s hair with his fingers. He then touched the back of his hand to Sanji’s forehead to check on his fever.

Still pretty damn hot. Hot to the touch indeed.


	5. Starry-Eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like there may be resolution to the mysterious disappearing of the other Strawhats. But what really needs resolving is the new couple's desire to make their love known to the whole crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo everyone! So sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER but here you go! This is the final chapter of Hot to the Touch, but don't be sad.. I am working on a new Zosan fic that I will be posting soon. Enjoy!

CHAPTER FIVE: STARRY-EYED

“I say we wait for them to show up,” Usopp said, pushing back his poof of black hair. “They’ll come back, I know it.”  
Zoro held his head in his hands. He was getting some kind of terrible migraine. “How do you know that for sure?” He lifted his head to take a sip of his freshly-brewed coffee. He would have much rather had some sake to drink, but caffeine was more important at the moment.  
“B-because… Ah, Zoro, don’t make me go back out there!” Usopp stammered. “Even the most courageous of warriors are scared sometimes! And I, and…”  
“I never said you had to go anywhere,” Zoro retorted. “I’ll go. Give yourself a break.”  
“You’re sick, Zoro. I’m no doctor, but I can tell that you’re not well at all.” Usopp curled his hands around his coffee mug for warmth. “Besides… You’ll get lost out there.”  
“Why is that the only thing you guys can say to me? ‘Oh, you’ll get lost!’ I already had to hear that shit from Sanji…” Zoro trailed off, thinking of the cook, and feeling sorry already for shouting his name in enmity. “Fuck.”  
“Take a rest, Zoro,” Usopp said, standing. “You’re not acting like yourself.”  
Zoro couldn’t help but notice that Usopp seemed a little off as well, almost like the recent incident had scared some of the childishness out of him.  
Or was it because… he knew? Was it obvious? Had Zoro gone too far with showing his affection for Sanji and whatnot?  
Fucking hell.  
Zoro left the kitchen and walked to the guy’s room. Suddenly he realized something strange. He wanted to tell someone. He wanted to brag for hours about Sanji’s cute face. He wanted everyone to see him wrap his arms around Sanji and smile. And for some reason Zoro wanted those ladies that Sanji lusted after to see that Zoro didn’t need boobs and a skimpy top to make the cook go all starry-eyed. It was fun to be in love, Zoro thought. But not nearly as fun if you couldn’t just be open about it.  
The sound of Sanji breathing sleepily in his hammock made Zoro smile. And without a second thought, he climbed right into Sanji’s hammock—which was pretty difficult to do—and nestled by his side. They were pretty crammed together in that little bunk, but it was lovely and warm, and Sanji’s newly-washed hair smelled nice. The blond rolled over a bit and tucked his nose below Zoro’s chin, letting out a sleepy sigh that was so damn cute, Zoro just had to kiss his forehead.  
And if Usopp came in, good for him.  
As overwhelmingly relaxed as Zoro was, he could not make himself sleep. Okay, Sanji might have been a little suffocating, especially as he began to climb farther onto Zoro in his sleep. He was a thin guy, but he was strong and surprisingly heavy on Zoro’s chest. But no damn way was he moving that cutie.

Zoro estimated that an hour had passed by. Sanji’s breathing had become more regular and smooth; it seemed that a good rest was alleviating the cook’s sickness a bit. Zoro, too, was finally given some relief as his tired body lay in the hammock. He let out a long sigh and started to massage Sanji’s back softly, causing the cute chef to smile in his sleep. Too adorable. Zoro lifted Sanji’s shirt and smoothed the soft bare skin of his back, making delicate circles over his shoulder blades and his spine. With slow fingertips, he traced the bumpy line of Sanji’s vertebrae and followed it up to his neck. Then he slid his arms under Sanji’s and embraced him around the chest, curling his legs around Sanji’s so they lay intertwined. And the seemingly-endless session of kisses began; Zoro poked his lips all around the sleeping, unaware blond’s neck and jaw. His stubble was a little scratchy, and had grown a bit fuller over the past couple of days. Zoro liked to kiss it.  
Zoro’s mind had melted into a soft puddle of happiness. Until a noise startled that puddle back into reality. Then there was a bump at the door.  
The kind of sound that Zoro was hoping he would not hear.  
The sound of the door being pushed open. Very softly. All of Zoro’s previous courage had vanished.  
“Shit,” Zoro swore impulsively “Usopp, could you…”  
The figure behind the door, lit dimly by the lights on the deck, was not Usopp’s. It was a feminine figure. Tall, slim, and curvy. A long skirt swept the floor.  
“Swordsman-san, you in here?” Robin whispered.  
Robin.  
Robin was there. In the Sunny. In the guy’s room. How the hell.  
Zoro snapped upright, causing Sanji’s limp body to sorta roll out of place. Shit. Worst timing ever. Why, Robin.  
“Is Cook-san…?” She trailed off, stepping into the faintly lit room. She took sight of the two men, snuggled into the bunk together. Her cheeks flushed pink, visible even in the dark room, and she quickly backed up from the doorframe. “Oh! I apologize. I’ll just—”  
“Uh—no, it’s okay. Um… How did you get here?” Zoro demanded, his heart beating in humility. “How long have you been back?”  
“It was an interesting journey,” Robin said, her voice slow and slightly elevated. “I managed to find my way back. I see Usopp made it here as well.” The pretty woman diverted her eyes from the hammock.  
Well, Zoro had to explain somehow. No way was he getting out of this shit now. “I’m sorry though… This is a little… strange,” he mumbled.  
Robin opened her mouth a bit, as if trying to prepare a reply. But she could only smooth back her hair, shifting her gaze to Sanji, still asleep.  
“I can explain it all,” Zoro said, without really meaning to spill it. “I just… I, uh…”  
Sanji stirred and opened his eyes, which immediately focused on Robin, standing near the door. He bolted upright within seconds. “Robin-chwan! Oh! I… I’m glad you’re… safe?” It took the cook a moment to recollect that he was lying on top of Zoro. That his hands were braced against Zoro’s collarbone. That his legs were twisted gently beneath Zoro’s. And Robin was standing right there.  
“I guess I climbed in the wrong hammock,” Zoro chuckled stiffly, eyeing Robin. “I was so tired, I just…”  
“No. Zoro.” Sanji plunged his hand over Zoro’s mouth and shoved his head down. “Don’t be such an thoughtless asshole. Lying to a lady…” Sanji took in a big breath, realizing what he was in for. He was glad when Robin spoke, relieving him of an explanation.  
“It’s okay, you two,” she said quietly. “You don’t need to explain.  
Zoro and Sanji fell silent. It was abnormal to see Sanji run out of words to say to one of the ladies.  
“Really, don’t be embarrassed. But I’m very sorry for intruding; I just wanted to make sure you two were doing well without our doctor here.”  
“Doing a lot better,” Zoro muttered, hoping the subject would miraculously change. “It’s a lot easier, ah, when we can tough it out together, I guess.” He smirked at Sanji, feeling stupid.  
“We’re together now,” Sanji blurted at Robin. “Zoro and I. If you were wondering.”  
Zoro, embarrassed yet charmed, watched the spreading blush on Sanji’s nose. He could feel it on his own face, too.  
“That’s great. I’m happy for you,” Robin said, smiling. She was visibly put at ease by Sanji’s confession, yet her cheeks glowed nearly as red as the boys’. “And don’t worry. If you don’t want the others to know, I won’t tell anyone.”  
Sanji and Zoro nodded, because they were both too rattled to try any other response.  
Zoro didn’t know whether he should be mad at Sanji or glad he’d admitted their love. After all, it was nice to have the secret out to someone. And strangely, more real. After all that time feeling like he was floating through a dream, Zoro finally felt comfortably grounded.  
“There’s something you two should see,” Robin continued.  
Zoro and Sanji looked at each other, slowly slipping their feet out of the hammock. Robin motioned for them to follow, and they did hesitantly, leaving the room and approaching the main deck behind the tall woman. She then paused for a moment behind the wall and turned toward the guys.  
“First off, we want to apologize for how long we were gone. But don’t worry. We think you’ll find it worthwhile!”  
Confused, Sanji and Zoro exchanged puzzled looks. But when Robin led them past the wall and onto the deck, a sudden outburst of laughter and voices shook them from all thought. Even the gray drizzling rain couldn’t damper the excitement of the other crewmembers, dancing about and holding a giant “Get Well Zoro and Sanji” sign. Brook immediately began pelting a tune from his guitar.  
Nami bounced over, laughing. “You guys better be grateful! We had to walk for three hours one way in the pouring rain to get into town!” She motioned behind her, at a buffet table overflowing with hot food and cake and hot chocolate, protected beneath an umbrella.  
Sanji’s mouth watered. Well, he hadn’t made the food. But it looked so tasty, especially after all those hours of lacking an appetite.  
“It was my idea!” Luffy shouted, stretching over to meet his recovering nakama. “We were just gonna go play out there but then I decided it was time to throw a party! So we got you guys a whole bunch of yummy food!”  
Apparently Luffy had picked out some of the food to appeal to his own taste. He retreated to the table to devour some meat.  
“We sent Usopp back here early to make sure you were out of the room when we arrived,” Robin explained. “Did he play it off well?”  
Zoro looked over the deck at the long-nosed guy, who was now laughing alongside the others. “He’s pretty good at making up stories,” he mused. “Had me convinced. But I think he was actually a little terrified of being alone. I know that part wasn’t just for show.”  
Sanji and Zoro pulled away from the others to take some of that delicious-looking food. They piled up their plates and sat on the ground, a distance away from everyone else. Although the celebration was supposedly a get-well party for Zoro and Sanji, it seemed more like any old excuse to have fun. No one bothered to pay any extra attention to the two sick crewmates in recognition, but for this, they were glad. Just another one of Luffy’s fun ideas. The crazy captain he was.  
“How’s that chicken?” Sanji asked Zoro, who gnawed away hungrily.  
“Better than yours.”  
“Shut up. Shitty ass.”  
“Just kidding, cook.”  
“Oh, right. Glad to see you’re feeling well enough to be sarcastic and rude, as usual.”  
Zoro put his plate on the ground and slid next to Sanji, his arm around the other’s waist. Softly, he kissed the cook under his eye and smelled his soft hair. He didn’t care if the crew was watching. His lips soon found Sanji’s, and they took a moment to share a long kiss. From across the deck, Zoro caught Robin smiling at them, though she promptly turned her head away as the couple finished their kiss.  
“We better get well soon, Marimo,” Sanji whispered.  
“I’m feeling perfectly fine right now,” Zoro replied, leaning on Sanji’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

End.


End file.
